Make Me Soar (31 page)

Dorian’s stomach did an uneasy flip-flop.

Alan closed the lid of his laptop and turned his head to look at him, his hands clasped in his lap. “Submissives make mistakes. They’re still human, therefore not perfect, just like Doms.” He spoke quietly, without emotion. “This didn’t feel like a mistake. You accepted my rules, you knew this was important, hence the cock cage, and yet you went ahead and did it anyway.”

Dorian’s heart quaked. “Yes, Sir,” he croaked.

Alan nodded. “I know it may not seem like a great deal to you, but—
”

“No, Sir.” Dorian’s pulse raced. “Please, don’t—”

Alan held up his hand, and the words died in Dorian’s throat. “There is only
ever
one reason to punish. When a sub’s behavior displeases his Dom. So I am punishing you both as a means of expressing my displeasure and of teaching you that what you did was unacceptable.” He locked eyes on Dorian. “And I am punishing you in the hope that you will learn from this.”

“I will, Sir.” Hell, he already had. The one thought that had bounced around his head all day had been that he
never
wanted to hurt Alan like this again.

Alan cocked his head to one side, still focused on Dorian. At last he nodded. “Make up your bed and get some sleep.” His gaze drifted lower, to Dorian’s groin, where the cock cage was in place. “Better remove that before you do,” he advised. Then he picked up the laptop and placed it next to him. He rolled over onto his side, facing away from Dorian.

Dorian’s tension eased a little. At least Alan was speaking to him. He stared at the long line of Alan’s body beneath the duvet. Sharing his bed and his warmth had become a welcome part of Dorian’s day, and misery welled up in him at the thought of losing out on that.

It wouldn’t be an effective punishment if I didn’t feel it, would it?
His fingers strayed to the base of his throat where the collar had sat, the bare, unadorned flesh another reminder of his stupidity.

“Get into bed, Dorian.” The words were uttered patiently, Alan still facing toward the window.

Dorian quickly made up the bed and huddled under the blankets, shivering in the cool temperature. He caught the sound of Alan shifting in the bed to switch off the lamp.

“Good night.” Alan spoke softly.

“Good night, Sir.” Dorian lay on his back, his eyes adjusting to the semidarkness, his mind anything but quiet. It struck him that Alan had chosen punishments that really hit him where it hurt, as if he’d known how deeply Dorian would be affected by them.

He knows me
.

The sudden realization filled him with hope, and in spite of his misery, Dorian clung to it like a lifeline. It had only been a matter of weeks, and yet Alan showed more understanding of him than any other Dom he’d encountered. Okay, so Dorian had made a mess of things. He knew what to do—accept his punishment and do his very best to convince Alan that he was ready to move on.

He could
do
this.

B
Y
W
EDNESDAY
,
the snow had almost completely disappeared from the city center, and the chaos of the previous weeks became a distant memory. January was on the way out, and February promised to be warmer than in recent years, according to the records.

Dorian walked slowly up Market Street, gazing absently at the sales notices in the shop windows. Going shopping for clothes in the January sales was one of his favorite occupations, but this year the thought brought him no pleasure. It wouldn’t have mattered if he’d wanted to, anyway—he only had enough money on him to get into Manchester city center and buy a coffee with Justin. The ATM card was at home.

Except it didn’t feel like home right then.

Four nights of sleeping on the floor. Four days of no scenes. And Alan was still quiet.

Dorian couldn’t deny that the tension had eased once Alan had spoken on Saturday night. But there’d been no sign that he wanted to end the punishment. He’d been busy for the last few days, getting his presentation ready for the authors’ workshop in London, and there hadn’t been a lot of conversation between them.

Dorian had been keeping himself busy, working on Alan’s latest manuscript. Then Alan had asked him to do something specific. He needed someone to oversee the smooth working of his website. He’d showed Dorian the site and what needed doing. Dorian had seen instantly why Alan needed help. There was a backlog of e-mails from readers, the site wasn’t up-to-date with his releases, and the blog was in a similar state. Alan had explained, somewhat sheepishly, that there just weren’t enough hours in the day. His first preoccupation was with his writing. Everything else tended to take a backseat.

Dorian didn’t mind in the least. It kept him busy, and for the most part, it kept his mind off the situation. Those four nights of sleeping alone had really brought home to him to what extent he’d come to enjoy Alan’s touch, something he was missing so much, it made him ache.

He glanced at his watch. Another hour or so and he was due home to cook dinner with Alan. The couple of hours he’d spent with Justin had really flown by. It was good that Justin seemed more optimistic than before. He’d paid a visit to George House Trust and had been pleased by how it had gone. They’d already fixed up a time for him to meet with his “partner,” someone who was HIV positive who would be there to support him. It sounded like a good system.

A couple of times during their coffee, Justin had regarded Dorian with a quizzical expression and had asked if he was okay. Dorian had shrugged it off, claiming to be tired. He didn’t want to tell Justin about what had transpired. He wouldn’t have understood. Although they were making great headway into becoming friends, it wasn’t the same as discussing things with another submissive. Besides, Dorian didn’t want to think about that morning anymore. Just remembering Alan’s cool, distant expression was enough to make Dorian’s cheeks burn and tingle.

What he really needed was to talk to someone who could advise him. Dorian needed to talk to a sub. Going over and over things in his head was driving him nuts. Maybe getting everything out into the open would help.

As he drew closer to the bus stop, a restaurant sign across the street caught his eye, and suddenly there was a flutter in his belly.

God, please, let Pietro be there today
.

Dorian crossed the street and walked up to the glass door of Severino’s, then peered through the window. The lunchtime crowd seemed to have dwindled to nothing. Only a handful of people were seated at the tables. The door opened and a couple came out, a waft of air following them, warm and fragrant with the smell of garlic. Dorian hesitated and then stepped through the door.

He glanced around for a member of staff, but there seemed to be no one around. Then his heart gave a jolt when a tall young man with brown hair came out of the kitchen and went over to clear a table of its debris. He caught sight of Dorian, and for a moment his gaze narrowed. He straightened, and after giving a quick look around the restaurant, he walked over to Dorian, his mouth set in a polite smile.

“What can I do for you, Dorian?” He stood still, hands clasped together, fingers twisting his wedding ring.

Dorian’s heart pounded. “Hi, Alex. Is… is Pietro here?”

Alex shook his head. “Wednesday is his day off.” He fell silent, not breaking eye contact.

When it was clear Alex was not about to say anything else, Dorian gave him an apologetic smile. “Okay, I’ll give him a call. Thanks, Alex. Sorry to have bothered you.” With a brief nod to him, Dorian went to the door, stomach churning.

I should’ve called first
.

Seeing Alex didn’t help his inner turmoil. The two of them weren’t on speaking terms and were never likely to be. Too much history there.

He got to the door, only to find Alex suddenly next to him, his hand tentatively reaching toward him.

“Are you all right?” Alex’s brow was wrinkled, his eyebrows knitted together.

Dorian halted, hand resting on the brass door panel. He was in no mood for this. “I’m fine,” he lied.

Alex didn’t budge. “Okay, I don’t know you that well, but even I can tell that there’s something up. Plus you haven’t been around lately at the club, so I figured something was wrong.” His expression softened. “Look, I’m about to go on a break. Why don’t you come upstairs with me and we can chat? I’ll make you a hot chocolate,” he said coaxingly.

That brought a smile to Dorian’s face. “What is this now, bribery?” He scanned Alex’s features. “You said it yourself. You don’t know me, so why would you want to chat with me?”

Alex’s cheeks glowed pink. “Because it looks to me like you need to talk. Why else would you be here to see Pietro? And then….” That flush rose higher, until the tips of his ears were bright red. “I think it’s time we buried the hatchet, yeah?”

There was something in his voice that touched Dorian, an earnest quality that seemed really genuine. “Okay,” he said at last. “Hot chocolate it is.”

Alex’s face relaxed into a smile. “Just wait here while I clear these tables and ask Sev if it’s okay. Then I’ll be back for you.” He patted Dorian’s arm and scooted across the restaurant floor on those long legs. Dorian watched him collect up all the napkins, glasses, and cutlery on a tray before he disappeared through the swinging doors to the kitchen. He gazed at his surroundings. He’d only been there once before, and it had been a flying visit. Dorian had been hell-bent on mischief.

God, I was such a little shit back then
. Alex had every right to be mistrustful of him. After all, Dorian had tried to split him and Leo up, back when they’d only just gotten together. It still amazed him that in spite of Dorian’s behavior, Leo had come out to Berlin with Alan to rescue him. It was a humbling thought.

“Sev says it’s okay.”

Dorian gave a start. He’d been so lost in his reminiscences, he hadn’t been aware of Alex’s approach. Alex beckoned him to follow and then led him through the doors into the bustling kitchen. Sev was a large man with warm brown eyes who was standing by a cook’s station, sampling a sauce. He gave Dorian a friendly wave of his hand and then went back to speaking with the sous-chef. Alex guided Dorian along the wall of the kitchen until they reached a narrow staircase.

“Go on up,” he said, pointing. “It’s the second door on the right. There’s a couch in there so we can be comfy, and no one else is on a break right now. I’ll be up with the drinks.” He left Dorian and walked across the kitchen. Dorian climbed the wooden stairs and found the small staff room. The couch had seen better days, but Alex was right—it looked comfy. He sat down and settled back against the worn cushions. The only other furniture in the room was a table and a couple of plastic chairs.

It wasn’t long before Alex appeared at the door clutching two steaming mugs. He pushed the door shut with his arse and came to sit with Dorian. Alex handed him a mug.

“Okay, before we talk, I need to clear the air, all right?”

Dorian nodded, warming his hands on the mug.

Alex bit his lip. “I know you had your eye on Leo, and that’s why you did what you did. I can understand you wanting him—he
is
gorgeous, right? As well as being a bloody good Dom.”

Before Dorian could say a word, he plunged on. “It occurred to me when I saw you in the restaurant that I didn’t have any reason to dislike you anymore.” He held up his left hand, where the wedding band gleamed. “After all, he married me. And if I’m honest, you pulling that stunt—although it hurt at the time—well, it did prove useful. It took that time apart from Leo to show me how bloody miserable I was without him.”

It was too much. Dorian barked out a bitter laugh, causing Alex to stare at him in surprise.

Dorian shook his head. “Right now the Karma Fairy is laughing her fucking head off.”

Alex frowned. “Karma Fairy?” He looked bewildered.

Dorian smiled, and after drawing in a deep breath, he started at the beginning and told Alex everything. His fellow submissive stared, now and again taking a sip of hot chocolate, eyes fixed on him. Dorian’s stomach clenched when he related the events in Berlin, as well as Alan’s reaction last Saturday. Alex made no comments, just nodding and listening intently. When Dorian got to the part about Alan’s punishment, he let out a low whistle.

“When my best friend was caught wanking in the shower by his master, he had to wear a cock cage for a
day
. Sounds to me like Alan’s being too harsh.”

“No, he’s not,” Dorian interjected hastily. “He had
every right
to be angry. I really let him down.” His face fell. “But what you said about feeling miserable without him?” He stared into his mug. “That’s been me these last four days.” He closed his eyes. “I miss him.”

When silence fell, he opened his eyes. Alex was staring at him, his expression sympathetic. “Oh, you’ve got it bad.”

Dorian was stunned into silence for a moment. Then he pulled himself together. “What do you mean?”